Inception
by Rinara
Summary: Follow Nick, an "extractor" of dreams, as he and his teammates try to accomplish something said to be impossible - inception. Will Nick accomplish the impossible in order to regain his old life back?  Follows Christopher Nolan's movie. Chapter 1 now up.
1. Teaser

"**This is your first lesson in shared dreaming."**

**-Teaser-**

The late afternoon sunlight highlighted the world around her. Placed on a busy corner of an intersection, a pleasant café thrived with customers. The rich, inviting smell of coffee and sweets had much allure. The café was a new experience she simply couldn't refuse. Cars parked alongside streets next to architectural and historic beauties. Merchants lined up on the sidewalk with their produce, ready to sell to people from all walks of life. So peaceful, so brilliant—the café and the world around it could only be a dream.

Zoey glanced down at the glossy, caramel colored table she sat at. Her coffee had a bitter, strong taste. Yet, it was delightful enough for her to take another sip.

"You create the world of the dream," The man beside her explained. "You bring the subject into that dream …"

Zoey studied his expression, a look of excitement and curiosity burned in his majestic, lime green eyes. She could see that behind those green jewels, something was buried deep within. A past she couldn't comprehend. His eyes were taunting enough to instill fear and confusion into her very soul. Zoey frowned slightly, feeling her new acquaintance stare back at her with an equal amount of intensity as she did.

The man she has come to know as Nick continued staring at her. He did more than study her frustrated and curious expression—he saw into her mind, into her very being. Zoey was a simple girl with not much of a significant past. If anything, she would be perfect for the task that lay ahead of her.

Nick smiled peacefully at Zoey who was patiently listening to every word he said.

"… And they fill it with their subconscious." Nick continued, his smile now fading, becoming quite serious.

Zoey, taken aback, closed her eyes, trying to imagine Nick's explanation in reasonable terms.

"How could I ever—" She paused quickly while trying to sort her thoughts. "…acquire enough _detail_ to make them think that it's reality?"

"Well, dreams … they feel real while we're in them, _right_? It's only when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange."

Nick studied every ounce of emotion Zoey's face produced. Her curiosity and confusion brought a quick smile to his face. She, however, bit her lip softly while thinking.

"Let me ask you a question. You never really remember the beginning of a dream, do you?" Nick asked, more curious than before. "You always wind up right in the middle of what's going on."

"I guess, yeah," Zoey blurted out.

"So how did we end up here?"

Zoey answered casually, "Well we just came from the … ah—"

She paused, searching her memory for an answer. Her mind was a dark abyss. The only memory she had in her mind was of the current conversation. Zoey searched deeper into her memories but to no avail.

"Think about it, Zoey," Nick moved closer to her face, suddenly whispering. "How did you get _here_?"

Zoey stared into his eyes intensely. Anxiety began to build inside her stomach. She looked around swiftly, yet as calmly as she could. Zoey blinked quickly as if trying to erase the world around her.

"Where are you right now?"

She looked back at Nick, her mouth agape. " … We're dreaming?"

"You're actually in the middle of a workshop right now sleeping," Nick's lips curled slightly upwards into a thin smile.

Zoey looked around frantically. The people, the coffee, the cars, the street, the café, the merchants—it was all a dream?

"This is your first lesson in shared dreaming."

Suddenly, the cups of coffee began to shake uncontrollably. Zoey immediately scooted her chair backwards, completely distraught by her current realization.

Nick sensed her panic immediately as the world around him changed. "Stay calm …"

The once peaceful world erupted into something that Zoey could no longer comprehend. Everything shook violently. The merchant's stalls exploded one by one as they neared the once peaceful and lively café. The glorious, historic buildings exploded alongside the stalls, sending debris flying into the air. The citizens once filled with emotion and passion had come to a pause, standing lifelessly among the debris. Cement, vegetables, bricks, and cars eventually exploded, only causing more chaos and destruction. The café was the biggest explosion yet. Furniture, rocks, glass, tables, and chairs soared past the only two people who actually existed.

Nick, somewhat amused, watched the debris as if it were normal. Zoey sat completely still, feeling every vibration and watching every speck of dirt fly by her.

For her first lesson in shared dreaming, Zoey certainly had no idea what to make of it.

**Author: **I never ask for reviews, but this time around, I hope you share your comments about this teaser chapter with me. This story follows the movie _Inception_, by Christopher Nolan, exactly. **I honestly do not know if I should continue this story** from the very beginning, as this chapter was created simply because I had a spark of creativity. Please, leave a quick comment on what you think.


	2. A Half Remembered Dream

-Opening Scene-

**A Half-Remembered Dream**

The sun's bright rays gave the ocean an ethereal glow. The world seemed so vibrant and alive at dawn. The ocean's waves roar spectacularly, crashing against the rocks surrounding the beach. Nothing could contain the power and fury of the ocean. The crashing and roaring awoke him from his soft sleep. Perhaps the ocean was his friend, or perhaps, it was his enemy. He could not tell for the powerful movements of the waves slammed against his body angrily, and yet, he also found it soothing as it lulled him back to sleep.

Nick opened his mouth gently, feeling the salty and cool water enter his dry, dead, and tasteless mouth. He wanted to sleep some more, but the harsh waves continued to beat his already worn and defeated body. If he stayed asleep any longer, the waves would suck him back into its depths. The ocean was not his comforter—it lusted after his death. His cheeks were red and swollen from sun exposure and ached terribly with the salty water. As the waves retreated, the sea foam tickled his face, causing him to slowly open his eyes. In the distance, the soft laughter of children filled his ears, giving him a terrible ache in his heart.

Nick moves his head slowly upwards, allowing him to give a small glance towards the beach. There, he saw them. His children—his children with _her_. He loved her, of course, more than anything or anyone. But she has brought him here to this moment of possible death. And he did not know how to forgive her. Oh, but he loved her, and he was tired of that ache in his heart. Oh, what a terrible ache it was.

The two children played happily in the sand, making a small, crumbling castle. The girl was the eldest of Nick's two children. Her jet black hair shimmered in the sunlight's soft, elegant rays. She was daddy's little girl—her wide, sparkling green eyes and black hair were the epitome of Nick's genes. The little boy, on the other hand, looked like her. Nick's wife—the one that caused him the greatest heartache in the world—was almost reincarnated in her son. The little boy was tan with a thick mane of dark curls much like his mother. Both children were gorgeous and served as a reminder of what Nick and his wife had together.

Nick's head began to feel heavy once again, causing his eyes to droop. Sleep was a mysterious force upon the helpless, beaten man. Nick's lime green eyes sparkle with emotion, and he listens to his children's laughter as the ocean lulls him back to sleep. He wanted to call out to them, but of course, he knew better. The children playing happily in the distance were nothing but a figment of his imagination.

He knew better.

Or, at least, he thought he did.

Seconds turn into minutes as Nick's body becomes numb. The ocean's waves continued to beat against his body, and yet, it did not wake him this time around. He felt himself slipping away from the world, and he did nothing to stop it. He wanted to disappear, but he knew he could not do such a thing. Someone was waiting for him. Someone very important.

Suddenly, Nick feels two taps beneath his right shoulder blade. He recognized the touch—the barrel of a gun. The armed soldier stood curiously beside Nick, wondering how a beaten man could wash up on shore. Where did he come from and who was he? Nick was surely a mystery. The soldier cocked his head sideways, slowly pointing his gun towards Nick's lower back. He swiftly lifts the end of Nick's white suit upwards, revealing a handgun. The soldier yelled something to his comrade a few feet away, but the ocean's roars drowned out his voice. Nick listened intently, but then, everything faded to black.

Minutes become hours. One attendant and the armed soldier stand at the doorway to a glorious dining room. The lights on the ceiling were almost countless, and the room yelled of riches. Around the long, chestnut table, there sit no one in all of the vacant chairs. Yet, at the head of the table, there is an older man. He stares at the plate of decadent chicken and vegetables before him, and yet, does not dare to pick up his fork and eat it. A glass of the finest, imported wine stands nearby his plate. The man's stare reveals nothing—his eyes are empty.

"Sir …" The main attendant is careful, worried. He approaches his master carefully from behind. "This man—he was delirious."

The older man sat still, giving his back to both men. There was no need for eye contact.

"But he asked for you by name. And—"

Suddenly, the older man lifts his head slightly, feeling a click inside his mind. Something was calling him, something from a distant past.

"I want to see him." The older man commanded.

Despite his age, he proved to be a powerful man with authority—a genuine leader and father figure to those who needed him. One would expect as much. Certainly, a man who has been exposed to war could be considered no less than a leader.

"Show him—" The attendant calls on the guard who discovered the mystery man on the beach. "Show him what you found."

The guard awkwardly and quickly moves towards the side of the elegant table. "He was carrying nothing but this—" He gently places a handgun a bit away from the man's plate of food.

The older man stares at the gun with no expression. To him, it was nothing special. But he knew this mystery man wanted him for some reason, and that reason, was incomprehensible. He searched his mind for some distant memory, for some "click," as he heard it in his mind. Even so, there was nothing. Nothing but a dark abyss.

The older man, completely unimpressed, reached slowly for his glass of wine. It was going to be a long, mysterious day.

The soldier paused, then spoke once more, "…and this." He placed a little, insignificant top near the gun. It wobbled slightly as it captured the old man's attention. The clicking in his mind could be heard again. Suddenly, it hit him. The locked door to his memories opened once again.

_Nick …_ He thought. His imagination did not fail him then. He could see him—the young man with his signature white suit and crisp blue shirt beneath it. His black hair, those green eyes. He could see him—He could see Nick.

But the old man could not be sure.

He messed with his grey beard, feeling the untamed nature of it. "Bring him here—and some food."

The two guards, minutes later, drag in the beaten and soaked man. Nick's legs hang loosely as both men drag him without compassion. They shoved Nick into a cold, hard chair located at the opposite side of the table. He stares vacantly at the food before him. It was a simple bowl, a wooden spoon, and some mysterious white concoction inside the bowl. Nick was not going to complain. He picked up the spoon with much enthusiasm and started eating the tasteless, mushy food. The old man stares at Nick wolf down the white concoction as if it was a treat.

The old man smirked. Nick has always been quite amusing.

"So, do you want to kill me?"

Nick slowly glanced up from his bowl of a tasteless mess.

"—Because you can't kill me. I just won't die."

The old man picks up the small top between his thumb and forefinger. Still smirking, he spins it onto the table and begins to watch it dance gracefully. Nick looks down quickly and begins to scarf down his food once more.

The top continues to spin at a fast speed. It does not slow down even slightly.

"…but I've seen this before," The old man stares with no emotion.

Nick pauses in shock. Could this be _him_? Nick's mind began to churn with images from a past life he most nearly forgot.

_Bill? _His memories came flooding back into his mind.

Nick slowly looks up from his bowl, still clutching the wooden spoon in his cold, beaten hand. Bill slowly moves his stare from the dancing top towards Nick.

Bill smirks. "This top belonged to a man I met in a half-remembered dream …"

Nick opens his mouth slightly in shock. He meets eyes with Bill, and both stare at each other with the same intensity.

_A half-remembered dream._ Nick ponders on Bill's words with great intensity.

And then, Nick remembers everything. He remembers the first time he met Bill in a dream several years ago.


End file.
